


Sore Feet Seduction

by Alannada



Series: How To Seduce [4]
Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Humor, Not Beta Read, Romance, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:53:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28091193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alannada/pseuds/Alannada
Summary: Part 4 of How To Seduce series. How the tables turn!
Relationships: Miroku/Sango (InuYasha)
Series: How To Seduce [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1167800
Comments: 9
Kudos: 16





	Sore Feet Seduction

**Author's Note:**

> This was requested by TerraxAqua (FFN)

Inuyasha was a monster.

Oh, no, it wasn't because he was part inu youkai. It wasn't because he had canine ears and exotic eye and hair color. It wasn't because he was a moron only now learning hot to work and live around people who didn't hate his guts.

No, the reason Sango thought her gang leader a monster was because he was relentless. If he was a real dog, she was sure of it, he'd chase after people and then bite them on a calf just to be dragged for at least a ri.

The slayer smiled at the mental image of Inuyasha, his silver hair spilled on the ground, holding onto some poor samurai's ankle by his teeth and hanging from his leg as the human tried to leave, pulling him down a path.

Usually she admired him for the quality of character - his iron will, his stubborn refusal to give up, to stop, to let anything else distract him. He was a force of nature when he caught a whiff of Naraku's scent, running for hours until Kagome sat him into taking a break or the scent trail disappeared.

But right now Sango hate it. And the reason was pretty plain - today Kirara had been unable to carry anyone, so Sango and Miroku had ran alongside Inuyasha during a wild chase after a youkai they had to find and fight. Her feet were accustomed to running for a long distance, but the majority of their way had went though a ravine full of shattered rocks. 

In short words - her feet and calves were very sore. Of course she wasn't going to admit to this, especially when no one else seemed to be affected. 

She sighed as she looked up from where she was stitching together her torn kimono. She sat on the porch of a small hut provided to them by the thankful villagers they had saved from the youkai. Inuyasha and Kagome were nowhere to be seen, but sure enough Sango could hear them in the distance, too far for her to distinguish the words and see if they were bickering or not. Shippou was dozing off in a sunny spot in the grass in front pf the hut, Kirara sprawled next to him. Miroku, of course, was long gone, probably flirting with the easily impressed village girls.

She bit her bottom lip, her mood turning foul. Not only wasn't she inclined to go check up on him because of her feet - hanging from the raised floor of the porch - but also because she really didn't want to witness that.

Sango sighed and resumed her work, the needle held in calloused fingers that were nothing like delicate hands of noblewomen or weathered ones of peasant girls. She was a rare warrior woman, she had fought not only youkai, but also prejudice towards her gender to get to be a recognized slayer. Long ago she'd accepted the fact that there was little hope that a man who could appreciate and accept her existed. 

At times, especially during a fight, she could glimpse that kind of a man lingering in Miroku, but the moron always shattered that impression with a misplaced hand. 

She was so focused on her musing and work, that she didn't notice someone was approaching her until they knelt on the ground in front of her, putting the tray they'd brought with them on the ground. She gasped, when a hand gently, but firmly grabbed her ankle.

"Houshi-sama!" Sango gasped at the sudden touch of his warm fingers around her leg. She tried to pull it away, but the man kneeling in front of her just looked up at him with a bright smile. His dark eyes were soft and full of concern. "What are you doing?"

"Be at ease, fair Sango," he said in his honeyed, smooth voice. "I mean to only alleviate some of the ache I have glimpsed on your face earlier, when we made our way back tot he village."

"Huh?" Sango blinked at him. She was sure that no one had seen an occasional wince when she'd stepped on a particularly hard pebble.

"Just let me assist you," he reached with his other hand to the tray and picked up a towel - a warm damp towel that he then rubbed over first one, the on other foot of the girl, who sat there, staring down at him with big eyes. "You aren't Inuyasha, you shouldn't run around barefoot and especially you shouldn't fight barefoot. I will see to it that you get some boots."

"You don't have to dot over me," she glared at him. "I'm not a fragile lady that can't handle some sore feet from time to time."

The smile he shot her made her speechless. He looked very handsome, kneeling there and looking up at her with these damn earnest eyes.

"I know you are, dearest Sango. But I cant help but be concerned when one of my close friends is in pain. And when it is you, my fairest of ladies, I can't help, but want to do anything I can to aid you. Now.."

Sango gasped, when Miroku's deft fingers slid down from the ankle he was holding and wrapped around her foot. 

"Houshi!" she gasped at the sudden pressure applied by his fingers against the sensitive underside of her foot, which had suffered the most abuse during the day. 

"Just relax, dearest Sango," he soothed, discarding his towel and putting his other hand on her foot. "I wish only to make you feel better."

Then his hands started to knead her foot, ghosting over the swollen skin between pressing into it gently, drawing patterns of circles and arches across her flesh. 

A part of her wanted to use her free toot to push him away, to make the warmth and soothing pressure go away, but she hesitated. 

Embarrassed, Sango bit her bottom lip, her eyes trained on the bowing head of black hair tied in a rat's tail. He wasn't groping her, nor was he talking some stupid nonsense he usually did. No, all he did was massaging her foot without haste carefully making his way from her toes all the way down and then up to her ankle. He never tried to peer under her kimono (not that he'd see anything more than the leg of her slayer's uniform) and he moved with skilled, deliberate motions, applying just enough pressure to soothe and relax her poor foot.

She almost moaned when he lifted his hands, but before she could feel regret that the massage was over, he moved to her other foot, giving it as much care as the first one. 

No man before had touched her like this, no man before had given her a massage. The touch of his warm, deft fingers was making her feet ache less, but it also made blush to dust over her cheeks and the bride of her nose. She watched him as he worked with all the patience of a monk, paying attention to each centimeter of her sore feet. 

"Um..." she blinked when he reached to the tray and picked up a small bottle. He uncorked it and poured something onto his palm, then he rubbed his hands together. Before he resumed his work, he glanced up and shot her a smirk. 

"An oil to soothe your ache, far Sango." he answered her unasked question and ran his hands over the tops of her feet, then he ghosted them around the sides to rub gently over the bottoms. A pleasant flowery scent filled the air. 

"Oh," Sango blushed furiously, when she heard herself moan in surprised pleasure at that simple, but sensual motion. 

"You like it, lovely Sango?" Miroku chuckled and Sango glared at him, her hands flying to cover her cheeks. But there was no hiding how embarrassed she was at that little noise she'd made. And all that damn monk did was to resume his massage, his oil-coated hands kneading her feet

"I..." she licked her lips "It's fine, I guess."

The circular motions of his hands, so warm, so gentle, so soothing, it was almost too much. She was only able not to moan again in pleasure at that touch. Her cheeks were burning now and she prayed with all her heart that no one saw her, the proud slayer, blushing like a bride and allowing this man to stroke his wickedly talented hands over her feet like he did. 

Her sewing was long forgotten where it lay in her lap, she leaned in a bit, her eyes watching him work the oil into her skin, easing her ache and making butterflies inside her belly come to life. The rough fabric covering his right hand and the occasional brush of his prayer beads only added to the sensation of their skin touching, offsetting the firm fingertips digging into her knotted muscles.

How was it that this rascal was blessed not only with silver tongue and good looks, but also such marvelous gift in his hands? 

She shifted where she sat a couple of times, but he remained kneeling there, working diligently. 

Then - too fast and at the same time too soon - he straightened his back and lifted his hands from her feet, that were now warm and tingling from his attentions. His eyes rose to meet hers and she did her best not to look disappointed that he was done.

"Do you feel better now, lovely Sango?" he asked, smiling this wretched smile that befitted a mischievous kitsune, not a man of cloth.

"Y-yeah. Thank you, Houshi-sama," she gave him a small smile, lowering her hands form her cheeks and glancing to the side 

"You know, if you need my touch again, you have but to ask," he grinned. "I can massage all of you, whenev- Ah!"

"Kami! Houshi-sama you're such a rascal!" Sango pushed the man with her recently massaged feet so he fell over onto his back. Her cheeks were flaming, but this time not as much with embarrassment over how good she felt, but rather with ire at his stupid ways. 

"The offer still stands," he assured her from where he laid in the grass. Then his eyes widened and he hurried to roll away. "No, dear Sango, don't be rash!"

Inuyasha and Kagome, who were approaching the hut, looked at the slayer leaping off of the porch to chase the monk, who scurried away.

"Idiot," Inuyasha muttered, his ears twitching when he heard the monk begging for Sango to think about how good he could make her feel. 

"I'm glad Sango feels better," Kagome smiled, oblivious to the fate that had befallen their Buddhist friend behind the corner of the hut where he had fled the wrath of his love interest.

"Keh, now it's Miroku who will be aching. Judging from the sounds, he might be having some nasty bruises," Inuyasha informed.

"I better dig out of my bag something to help with that," the miko mused.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer - I don't own Inuyasha, duh.  
>  English isn't my first language. I'm doing my best to keep my fics mistake-free, but if you find any - please - let me know.


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